The Box, The Rose, And The Phantom
by MagicMetalPipes
Summary: Paris 1881, a Phantom lurks in a popular Opera House full of dramatic actors, dancers, singers, and a certain music conductor with anger management issues. Amist all the chaos he falls head over heels in love with Gilbert Beilschmidt a dancer and singer. He is opposed however by a child hood lover, Matthew. Phantom Of the Opera Crossover! PruAus and PruCan. Enjoy
1. Chapter 1

Paris 1905:

The sky was clear and the streets of Paris were speckled with tourists or locals who just wanted to get out in the sunshine. Children ran in the streets, venders were trying to sell everything from books to fresh baked pies, and beautiful buildings adorned the cobblestone streets looming over a man in a small car. He appreciated all of this as he passed.

Eventually the car pulled to a stop in front of the Grand Opera house. He gazed up at it remembering when it was still in business. He could still hear his voice… breathtaking.

Someone opened the car door startling him out of his stupor, his nurse Elise. Her blonde hair was down today with a purple ribbon hanging lose on the right side. She was smiling and standing by his wheel chair.

"Ready?" she asked grabbing his arm and helping him down into the wheelchair.

The man nodded blonde hair falling into his eyes. They made their way up the ramp and under a sign that read **Public Auction Today**! The old man barely glanced at it as he was remembering a time when he could have walked into the opera house unassisted.

The air was musty, bats flew from the rafters, and you could see the dust floating in the air. Burn marks coated the walls and cobwebs hung from the once grand chandeliers. They made their way through the halls in silence heading toward the stage.

The heard a man speaking as they drew nearer. "Sold! Your number, sir? Thank you." Elise placed him quietly off to the left, but close enough to examine the objects placed on the stage. "Lot 663, then, ladies and gentlemen: a poster for this house's production of "Hannibal" by Chalumeau."

A man came in from off to the side holding a giant poster and frame. "Showing here." He said and turned the poster so that everyone standing could see.

The auctioneer looked around the crowd and yelled, "Do I have ten francs? Five then. Five I am bid. Six, seven. Against you, sir, seven. Eight. Eight once. Selling twice. Sold, to Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny." He pounded his gravel against the podium and the poster was removed from the stage.

"Lot 664: a wooden pistol and three human skulls from the 1831 production of "Robert le Diable" by Meyerbeer. Ten francs for this. Ten, thank you. Ten francs still. Fifteen, thank you, sir. Fifteen I am bid. Going at fifteen." He slammed the gravel down again. "Sold! Your number sir?"

The man in the wheel chair looked around the room. One person met his eyes a once beautiful woman now old like himself. Elizabeta? She looked around also and when she caught his eye she looked surprise then nodded to him and looked back to the stage where they were now onto the next item. The one he had been waiting for.

"665, ladies and gentlemen; a papier-mache musical box, in the shape of a barrel-organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theatre, still in working order."

The porter came back to the front of the stage and held up the music box. "Showing here." He set the box in motion and let it play the familiar tune.

 _Masquerade, paper faces on parade. Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you…_

"May I start at twenty francs? Fifteen, then? Fifteen I am bid."

A Gentleman across the room raised his hand.

"Fifteen, thank you sir!" he nodded to him. "And do I here twenty?"

Elise raised her hand after getting the green light from the man in the wheel chair.

"Twenty from you, sir. And do we have twenty five?" Elizabeta raised her hand. "Twenty five to you Madame, thank you. And do I hear thirty?"

The nurse raised her hand again.

"Thirty once. Selling twice. Sold, for thirty francs to the Vicomte de Williams."

The music box was placed in his shaking hands. He ran his fingers over the old wood and the cymbals taking it all in. "A collector's piece indeed." He mutters, half to himself, half to the box. "Every detail exactly as he said. He often spoke of you, my friend. Your velvet lining, and your figurine of lead. Will you still play, when all the rest of us are dead?"

He looked up and resumed paying attention to the auctioneer who was now gripping the podium in his excitement. "Lot 666, then: a chandelier in pieces." The people in the audience turned to look where he had pointed. A large bulky object lay covered in a dusty sheet taking over part of the room. "Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera: a mystery never fully explained. We are told ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster."

The man in the wheel chair recalled with perfect memory a burning building and piercing screams as the audience scrambled to get away from the burning chandelier.

"Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new electric light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look like when re-assembled." He paused then straightened with a faraway look in his eyes. "Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination, gentlemen?" He signaled to the men waiting in the shadows.

Suddenly the sheet was thrown aside and in an enormous flash the chandelier hit the few light beams cast into the room by the holes in the ceiling making the whole thing shine. Slowly it was raised off the ground and into the air as a team of men hulled it up to the ceiling.

The man remembered the chandelier as it once was glittering and magnificent. It towered above everyone in one blinding light. To some it was like a second sun.

Elise looked at him with a worried expression when she noticed his sudden shortness of breath. Something very close to tears shined in his eyes as he signaled for her to leave.

"Wow, that was crazy!" Elise said fanning her face. "Crazier than the time my big brother tried to keep everyone off his property by threatening them with a shot gun. Actually, maye not…" She continued to talk, but the old man shut her out lost in his own memories of a certain opera singer…


	2. Chapter 2

Paris 1881

 **Rehersal For "Hannibal" by Chalumeanu**

The opera house was really a sight to behold with its gold statues and grand staircases. Only the extremely wealthy could afford such a luxury. The performers where in a hassle to finish preparations for that nights show. People ran into one another, ballerinas put dust on their shoes, make-up artists painted faces, and the star of the show was singing (If you could call it that) on center stage.

He was very distinguished in his lavish purple robes and holding a severed head standing high above the crowd and screaming his lungs out.

The maids in the audience looked at each other trying not to make a face, but pointing to their ears to get their point across.

The conductor, grumpy as he was, signaled to the girl's chorus to begin by rudely yelling at them and suddenly the stage burst into life. Bright colors flew and voices rose up from the silence before. The actors marched across the stage projecting their voices so the guards in the front hall could hear them loud and clear.

"With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration we greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation!"

They rearranged themselves as if to make a tunnel and all of the actors cried out, "Hear the drums- Hannibal comes!"

A beautiful woman strutted onto the stage proudly and looking ridiculous in her armor and bright orange feathers. To the regret of many ear drums she began to sing just as awfully as her husband, Francis, had. "Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far reaching grasp."

The conductor flinched and tapped his wand on the stand in front of him shaking his head violently. "No no NO! It's Rome! Not Roma. Get it RIGHT!"

The woman on the stage shook her head and laughed a high tinkling sound. "Si si, sorry Lovino I always am forgetting. Rome. Rome." She continued to say the offending word in different pitches and inflictions.

Lovino, face red, raised his wand again to begin the play when the manager walked onto the stage with two other gentlemen.

"And as you can see," he was saying "They are busy rehearsing for Chalumeanu's Hannibal."

Lovino's wand snapped in his hand and you could practically _feel_ the anger waves rolling off of him. "BASTARDS! GET OFF MY STAGE WE ARE REHEARSING!" He looked down at his broken wand. "AND YOU MADE ME BREAK MY WAND! WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU POTATO EATING BASTARD!"

"That would be Lovino our conductor. He has a bit of a temper so I would be weary of him." The "Potato eating bastard" in question gave Lovino a sideways glance. "Also, be careful about what you say to him because he will tell his boyfriend and he will-"

"Kick your ass? You bet he will! Now if you would stand to one side…Ballerinas that's your queue!"

The ballerinas ran onto the stage from all angles. One particularly enthusiastic performer was grinning and yelling things to the conductor who just frowned and ignored him.

The manager stood chatting with the two gentlemen and Madame Hedervary who ran the ballet department. "We take great pride in our ballet department." The manager was saying.

"I can see why." Said one of the men impressed.

"Wow! Who's that one?" The other man said pointing excitedly to the enthusiastic performer who continued to yell at Lovino.

"Look at this! How about this sexy move, Lovino! You know you want me!"

Madame Hedervary flipped her braid over one shoulder and laughed. "My son, Antonio."

The other man scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Adopted I suppose."

Madame Hedervay smiled at him. "Yes sir." The other man continued to examine the ballet dancers in admiration as they glided across the stage in large graceful movements.

"And who's that hot guy."

The other man coughed and glared at the loud gentleman. "Excuse me?"

"The HOT guy dancing in the center, duh. You should get your hearing checked."

The other man continued to scoff and mumble to himself, "Hot. Hmm I'll get him back for that. Flying Mint-Bunny, you are going to help me."

Madame Hedervay gave the insane man a strange look before turning her attention to the gentleman pointing to one of the dancers. "That, Alfred, is my other son, Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Beilschmidt? That sounds German." Said the other man irritated.

Alfred gasped, "No relation to the famous violinist."

"His only son."

Alfred grabbed the other man's arm and hopped up and down. "Here that Arthur! It's Beilschmidt's only son!"

Arthur frowned and tried to escape the others grasp. "That's nice Alfred dear, but GET THE BLOODY HELL OFF OF ME."

Madame Hedervary laughed and refocused her attention on the dancers again. "Gilbert! Get your head out of the clouds and concentrate." The dancer she was referring to got back into the steps and continued to dance abet a little airily. "That boy, always doing his own thing." Her tone was stern, but love shone in her eyes.

The show reached its climax and the ballerinas made room for the rest of the singers. The lead singer happily singing across the stage marveling in the spotlight…until his lavish cloak got stepped on.

He missed his note and immediately his expression became sour and his singing even more horrid to listen too.

As the dancers and singers hit the final note the Prima Donna in the middle of the stage glared at the manager who glared right back with his bright blue eyes.

After everyone finished the manager broke eye contact with the man and clapped his hands for silence. "Ladies nad gentlemen-Madame Hedervary, thank you-may I have your attention, please?" All the people crowded onto the stage to hear what he had to say. "As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true," Several people exchanged money as he said this. "and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire, Mr. Alfred Jones and Mr. Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred waved and bowed grinning from ear to ear while Arthur frowned and checked his watch. The lead singer walked forward and held out his hand wishing to be acknowledged.

"Gentlemen, this is Francis Bonnefoy our lead singer for five years now."

Alfred shook his hand with enthusiasm, "Wow, it's a pleasure." He looked at Arthur. "Who is that?" he whispered not so quietly.

Arthur rolled his eyes and took Francis's hand in a warm handshake as well. "I have experienced all your greatest rolls, Signor. It's nice to finally meet you."

The manager smiled a knowing smile and turned toward the woman strutting toward them. "And of course, Signora Joan d' Arc."

"A great honor." Said Alfred taking her hand and kissing it gently before once again turning to Arthur. "Who's that?"

Arthur took her hand as well kissing it and totally ignoring the other manager.

"Well," said the now retired manager. "If you've got it covered I shall be taking my leave."

Alfred shook his hand one last time. "May I ask Ludwig, but why exactly are you retiring?"

Ludwig sighed and glanced over at Francis then looked up in the rafters. "My health. Also…there is someone I need to get back to in Italy."

To Alfred's surprise, the conductor walked over holding a letter and hosting a very annoyed expression. "Give this the Feliciano, Potato Bastard. And make sure to remind him not to send letters every time he picks a tomato." Ludwig took the letter like it was a bomb.

Antonio walked over and pulled Lovino to his side. "I heard something about tomatoes?"

"Get off me Tomato Eating Bastard!"

"Hmm no."

Lovino wormed his way out of the grinning Spaniards grip and practically ran back to the orchestra box, face flushed.

"Look at him, he's so adorable. Haha! He turned red like a little tomato!"

From down in the orchestra pit came a very irritated "Don't call me a tomato!"

"You know you love it!" Antonio yelled back. "Anyway, say hi to that other brother, Ludwig, okay?"

Ludwig saluted with a grin. "Well gentlemen, I'm off. If you need me I shall be in Italy." With a final wave, he headed to the wings the crowd of people following him.

"Bye Ludwig!" Alfred yelled getting several strange looks. Arthur took his hand and pulled it back down.

"Bloody hell Alfred, tell the world why don't you?" Alfred smiled and ruffled his hair.

"You're cute when you're mad at me."

Arthur's stern expression faded. "Damn right I am."

"And I don't have my costume for this evening because SOMEBODY didn't finish it! So how can I perform!" Francis yelled at some poor sod at the front of the stage.

Arthur and Alfred gave each other a look. "Grovel." They said together.

"Signor!" Alfred yelled getting in between the arguing pair. "Perhaps you could do something else?"

Arthur caught on and joined in. "If I remember rightly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in Act Three of "Hannibal". I wonder, Signor, if, as a personal favor, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, Mr. Vargas objects."

Lovino poked his head up out of the pit. "Somebody call my name?"

Francis pretended to think about it before flashing them an award winning smile. "If my new managers command." his words were coated with honey.

Francis turned to Lovino who rolled his eyes. "If the Bastard Prima Donna over their commands."

Francis narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I do."

He took center stage as Lovino flipped to the right page of the play. He glared at the music as if it personally offended him. "Signor?"

Alfred and Arthur stood off to Francis's right side and flashed fake smiles. A piano started to play and Francis started to sing.

It was okay…until he decided to hold unnecessary notes that made everyone flinch. The maids in the audience had been the smart ones, putting in ear plugs before Francis ever opened his mouth.

Alfred raised a hand as if to cover his ears, but somehow realized that it would offend Francis and stopped halfway awkwardly scratching his chin instead.

And up in the rafters, a man was finding this sort of music unacceptable. He glared at the man from above and turned a wheel forcefully.

A backdrop came crashing down landing directly on Francis who screamed rather unmanly as he was pinned to the floor. His face turned red and once again everyone crowded onto the scene to see what all the excitement was all about.

Whispers filled the stage. "He's here. The Phantom…"

Francis pounded the floor like a little school girl as the Arthur and Alfred went, rather reluctantly, to help him up.

Everyone looked up to the man cranking the wheel backward to pull the backdrop back up. "Hey," he yelled down pink scarf fluttering. "Don't look at me da? It wasn't at my post. I swear there's no one there!" His face took on a sinister smile. "Or if there is, it must be a ghost."

Everyone returned their attention to the new managers who had finished helping Francis up. "Come on Signor," Alfred said trying to grin away the event. "These things do happen."

It was the wrong thing to say. Francis's face turned murderous. "For the past _three years_ "these things do happen". And do you stop them from happening, no. Until you stop these things from happening this thing does not happen!"

Lovino kicked his music stand sending papers flying everywhere. "Bastard."

Francis turned toward his personal assistants. "Eduard, Raivis, Toris! Bring my puppy and my doggy!" He stormed out of the theater some people waving happily behind his back. "You see!" he yelled without looking back. "Bye-bye I'm really leaving!"

The new managers yelled after him, but the stuck up singer was not coming back.

"Great now what do we do?"

Madame Hedervary came forward with a letter in her hand and totally calm. "I have a letter from the Opera Ghost."

Arthur looked at the ceiling. "Oh God in heaven you're all obsessed."

Madame Hedervary glanced at him dead serious. "He welcomes you to his Opera house-"

" _His_ Opera house?"

"And requests that you continue to leave box five empty for his use and that his salary is due."

Arthur snatched the letter from her. "His _salary_?!"

Madame Hedervary flipped her braid back over her shoulder. "What? Mr. Ludwig used to give him twenty-thousand francs a month."

"Twenty-Thousand!" Alfred and Arthur shouted at the same time.

"Perhaps you can afford more with the Williams as your patron?"

"Well, I had hoped to make that announcement myself tonight." Arthur said ripping the letter to shreds. "But it appears we have lost our star!"

Alfred looked to Lovino. "There must be an understudy or something!"

Lovino snapped his second wand. "Understudy?! There is no understudy for Francis Bonnefoy!" Antonio made his way through the crowd and over to Lovino where he rubbed circles on his back as the Italian banged his head on the wall.

"A full house, Alfred! We shall have to refund a full house!"

Alfred opened his mouth to yell back when a voice spoke up from the chaos. "Mr. Beilschmidt could sing it sirs."

All eyes turned to Madame Hedervary who stood by a certain albino who spluttered. "Wha-"

Alfred laughed earning an elbow from Arthur, "A dancer? Very silly."

Madame Hedervary refused to back down, however, "He has been taking lessons from a great teacher."

Arthur looked at Gilbert skeptically, "Really? Who?"

Gilbert shrugged, "I never learned his name."

Madame Hedervary shoved Gilbert forward. "Let him sing for you. He won't let you down."

Alfred smiled. "I don't see why not. Step right up Gilbert! Don't be shy." The dancer took a couple of small steps forward. And somewhere a piano started to play.

Arthur crossed his arms, "This is doing nothing for my nerves."

Alfred grinned, "Yeah, well he's very pretty." Arthur only grunted and looked anywhere, but at Gilbert.

And he started to sing…


	3. Chapter 3

His voice filled the Opera house like a birds song. No one could quite comprehend how beautiful his voice was at first compared to the god awful one they had heard for years. Mouths stayed open in shock and no one breathed a word. Even the stage crew from above stopped and listened to the beautiful music flow over them. Every note was hit just right and so much passion was put into the words anyone within earshot listened.

Gilbert was the sun and everyone was in awe of his powerful presence. This clumsy dancer...famous? No.

But no one could deny what they were hearing. Arthur stood of to the side with Alfred who was smiling and mouthing words to Arthur who was in to much shock to pay attention.

Gilbert didn't see any of them, he was so engaged in his music. The Angel spoke directions into his mind and he followed them somehow knowing that the strange being was listening unnoticed somewhere in the walls of the Opera House. He didn't want to disappoint him.

And disappointed was the opposite of what the "Angel" was feeling at the moment. Pride and love shined in his cold eyes for just a second. He sat down in the rafters and enjoyed what he had created.

When Gilbert finished singing there was a silence so absolute you could have heard the angels in heaven. Then chaos broke out and everyone was trying to talk to the new found talent. Gilbert loved the attention giving out autographs and smiling never once forgetting about his teacher.

Alfred ran over and shook his hand enthusiastically. "OMG! That was amazing! Wasn't that amazing Arthur?"

Arthur walked over shaking his head. "Beautiful. You must sing in the play."

And suddenly Gilbert didn't look as confident. "Wait? In front of EVERYONE?! Antonio, tell them that I don't want to."

Antonio grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Amigo, this is your big chance! Right Lovino!"

"Tell the dumb bastard that he better do it because some people around here would like to get paid!"

Antonio turned back to Gilbert, "There see? Now you have to do it for the sake of everyone's pay checks."

xXx

Gilbert looked at he white suit he was wearing and frowned. An albino in a white suit...no. But they didn't have anything else and he absolutely refused to dye his hair. Most would say he looked handsome, Gilbert thought he looked like a romantic ghost. A Hauntingly handsome entity. Yeah, he liked that.

Antonio burst into the changing room face glowing. "He smiled at me!"

"Who?"

"Lovino!"

Gilbert laughed. Antonio had been pinning after the grumpy conductor from the first moment he met him. Rejection after rejection and he still chased after him. What Antonio saw in him Gilbert couldn't say, but as long as Antonio was happy... "How'd you do that?"

"Oh, I dropped a prop and broke it." Antonio got a lovesick puppy look on his face. "His smile is so nice. He should do it more often."

Gilbert shoved him and pointed to the clock. "Show time." And they walked out of the room and toward the stage. "Break a leg."

Antonio looked confused. "Why would I break my leg?"

"Stage talk for good luck."

"Ohhhhhhh, HEY LOVINO!" Antonio ran off. "Good luck Gilbert!" He called behind his shoulder.

Slowly the people trickled in in their fancy suits and lacy dresses. Gilbert pulled on his collar unconsciously starting to sweat. The curtains rose and act one began. Then act two. Act three rolled around and it was time for his solo.

Madame Héderváry gave him a thumbs up and he took center stage. Gilbert took a deep breath and straightened his suit for the hundredth time. The curtain rose and a thousand faces stared at him. Gilbert felt his knees go weak with nerves until he saw Antonio in the wings grinning and holding a mustache to his face to distract Lovino. The conductor was trying hard not to laugh, his face turning bright red from the effort. The familiarity of his friends actions made the rest of the world fade and soon he was singing like nobody's business.

 _"Think of me_

 _think of me fondly,_

 _when we've said_

 _goodbye._

 _Remember me_

 _once in a while_

 _please promise me you'll try."_

The crowed seemed to shift bored people where listening, women stopped fanning their faces, and a man in box five adjusted his glasses trying to pull a memory that was begging for his attention.

" _When you find_

 _that, once_

 _again, you long_

 _to take your heart back_

 _and be free_

 _if you_

 _ever find_

 _a moment,_

 _spare a thought_

 _for me..."_

Lovino's face soothed and he looked like he was remembering a fond memory. In fact, everyone one who listened was remembering family, friends, or lovers whom they had forgotten. Gilbert looked like an angel in his white suit and indeed that's the impression the man in box five was getting. The memory was getting clearer. A time where there was no worries and violin music filled the air...

" _We never said_

 _our love_

 _was evergreen,_

 _or as unchanging_

 _as the sea_

 _but if_

 _you can still_

 _remember,_

 _stop and think_

 _of me..._

Alfred leaned against Arthur and sighed. "Do you think of me?"

Arthur scoffed at this, "Of course! I need to babysit you 24/7."

 _Think of all the things_

 _we've shared and seen-_

 _don't think about the things_

 _which might have been..._

 _Think of me,_

 _think of me waking,_

 _silent and_

 _resigned._

 _Imagine me,_

 _trying to hard_

 _to put you_

 _from my mind._

 _Recall those days,_

 _look back_

 _on all those times,_

 _think of the things we'll never do_

 _there will_

 _never be_

 _a day, when_

 _I won't think_

 _of you..."_

And it hit him like a train. The man in box five took off his glasses, cleaned them, and put them back on. There could be no mistaken. "Can it be?" He mumbled in surprise. "Can it be, Gilbert?" And when he realized that it was indeed his childhood friend and dare he say, sweetheart, he ran out of the box and made his way to the grand stair case where he used his status as a patron to gain entrance to to back rooms.

"What a change." The man grinned and checked his watch. "You're really not a bit the gawkish boy that you once where." He had a couple of minuets. "Does he remember me? Hmm, probably not. No one remembers me, but maybe there is a small chance that he...does?"

 _"We never said_

 _our love_

 _was evergreen,_

 _or as unchanging_

 _as the sea_

 _but please_

 _promise me_

 _that sometimes_

 _you will think_

Gilbert took a deep breath.

 _ah-ah-ah-ah-aaah-of me!"_

He had barely finished holding the note before the audience was on its feet whistling and throwing roses onto the stage. From up in the boxes you could here Alfred yelling. "Amazing! Magnifica! Stupenta!"

Gilbert could only smile in relief and clutch his chest. Damn that note was long.

The curtain closed and the people where still standing and he was still bowing face glowing in the aftermath. He was swept away by Antonio and Madame Héderváry who praised him nonstop. "That was breathtaking." "It was beyond words." "I couldn't believe it was you!"

He broke away from them and bowed. "Thank you Madame and Antonio. If you'll excuse me." And he left leaving a very confused Antonio and a pondering ballet instructor.

xXx

Gilbert pulled at his blood red tie as he lit a candle for his father down in the basements of the theater. He didn't say a prayer instead waiting for a friend to visit him. The attention was awesome, but Gilbert was unused to it. Usually all the cheers he got were at the curtain call.

 _"Bravo Gilbert. It was beautiful."_

Gilbert's head shot up and he looked around for the source and instead finding Antonio standing in the door way. "Why are you hiding down here? Seriously man, you were perfect." Gilbert took his eyes off his best friend to once again look for the source of the previous praise. "So..."

Gilbert turned his glowing red eyes upon him. "So..."

"So who's this "teacher" that you keep mentioning. Some lover I have not been made aware of?"

Gilbert recoiled in shock. "A secret lover?! What is this a soap opera? And what about your lover? How's that going for ya?"

Toni feigned shock. "My love life is perfect thank you very much. He wants me."

"Like a baby wants a piece of broccoli he wants you."

"Some baby's like broccoli."

"Don't get your hopes up."

Antonio grinned, "Did you see him during your solo? I almost made him laugh. He turned the color of a tomato to avoid it. Now that my friend is true love when you try and supress your emotions and turn the color of your favorite food."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows. "Sure, what would you know about true love?"

He twirled in a circle. "You will know it when you feel it amigo. Now you never answered my original question. What are you doing down here?"

Gilbert looked away ashamed for some reason. "When my father died he said that I would be protected by an angel of music. And I have been visited by him Toni, his voice is...breathtaking. Like a choir of angels all on his own. He sings songs in my head all the time. I am down here to light a candle in recognittion of my father and the angel that he sent down to protect me."

Antonio gazed at him sadly. "As your best friend, I am here to tell you that has to be a dream. Angels don't just come down for mischif makers like you." Gilbert didnt' move and Toni started to worry. "Look come on. Lets go get you changed and eat some dinner. I'm sure you will be talking some sense then."

Gilbert looked longingly at the portrait of the god on the wall and shook his head. "Your right Toni."

Antonio blinked. "I am? I mean, yes I am! Come on Gilbert."

As the two friends made their way down the dark corridors of the opera house they were both deep in thought. One was thinking about angels and music. The other was thinking about a certain conductor and eating food because boy was he hungry...tomatoes anyone?


	4. Chapter 4

Gilbert and Antonio walked arm in arm to the changing rooms. They had been friends since they were kids and always spoke openly to each other.

"Hey Gilbert."

"What?"

"You know the masquerade that is coming up?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah."

"I-I want to ask Lovino to go with me."

Gilbert's step faltered and he laughed. "He's gonna say no."

Antonio got a hurt look. "Come on. Be positive. I was going to ask him at dinner by starting a casual conversation and saying some cheesy pickup line and ask him out. He can't refuse this." he waved dramatically at his body. "I am so sexy I turn straight men gay and lesbian girls straight."

Gilbert shook his head. "We all know I'm sexier. Fine you want to ask Lovino out be my guest, but make sure I'm there so I can see the epic shouting match that is sure to happen."

Antonio smiled. "All right, let's do it."

Gilbert could not stop his grinning as he watched Antonio make his way over to the antisocial conductor. This was going to be better than watching Ludwig try and explain his porn addiction.

xXx

Lovino watched everyone in the room as he drank heavily from a wine glass. He was fuming because of the letter he had received earlier. Ludwig and Feliciano finally announced their engagement and he had to travel back to Italy to _be with the family._ Right, he thought to himself, the family that never liked me.

His eyes drifted back to the door waiting for...ah, there he was. His spirits lifted and he almost smiled except for the fact that Gilbert, that potato loving bastard #2, was grinning and trying not to laugh and Toni looked...nervous. Antonio never looked nervous.

Instead of smiling he greeted Antonio as he usually did, with crossed arms and a glare. "What do you want tomato bastard?"

Toni smiled and took the empty seat next to him. "I wanted to ask you something because we are friends right?"

Lovino glared at him and took a sip of his wine. "We are not friends."

Antonio looked heartbroken for a second before his confidence returned and he was smiling like his old self. "That means we are more than friends right?" he raised his eyebrows.

Lovino choked on the wine he was drinking. "WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT NOW BASTARD!"

Antonio grabbed his hand making the heat rise to his face. "Don't run away before I ask!" Lovino gripped his wine so hard his hand was trembling and on the floor his foot tapped impatiently. Antonio swallowed a lump in his throat. Damn he was hot. "I wanted to ask you if you would go to the masquerade with me."

Shock and anger burned onto Lovino's face. "OF COURSE NOT!" Everyone in the dining room turned to look at the dramatic rejection. All the people who worked at the opera house agreed that the two should really get together and considered them boyfriends even if they didn't see it themselves or, more specifically, that Lovino didn't see it.

Antonio's face was shocked, at first, then a shadow fell over his usually cheerful expression and he took on a desperate wounded look. Lovino had hurt him. His voice was barely louder than a whisper. "Why not? Lovino I love you, can't you see? And even if you don't return my feelings can't we just go as...friends." The word _friends_ got stuck in his throat and you could tell it physically hurt him to say it.

Lovino stood. "I think I should go." Antonio opened his mouth to say something, but closed it; resignation written all over his face. Lovino pushed his way past the guests and slammed the door behind him.

The performers turned to look at Antonio, but Gilbert shot them a glare and they looked away trying to act as though they didn't see what just transpired. Gilbert ran to his friend. "Toni, are you okay?"

Antonio's face hardened. "No, I'm not. I'm gonna go, Gilbert. See ya later." He stood and dragged himself to the door making sure that he shut it with as much care as possible.

Gilbert stood a little stunned for a second before the room erupted into conversation. It was time to go and get changed; there was no reason for him to stay any longer.

xXx

Madame Hedervary was in Gilbert's changing room placing the many, many roses that the crowd had given him where ever she could. "I should burn these flowers." She mumbled to herself. "I really should. He would never like these."

Gilbert closed the door silently. Madame Hedervary continued to talk to herself. "I mean, who would want so many flowers anyway? I should give a bouquet to Antonio, he would love to give them to Lovi. Where did so many flowers even come from anyway?"

"Hi Elizabeta."

Madame Hedervary jumped and whirled around. "Oh, Gilbert it's you. I was about to go all kick ass on whoever called me that. Because only family is allowed."

"Yes, I know."

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You did wonderful tonight. Oh!" She searched through the roses and came out with a simple red rose with a black silk ribbon tied to it in a neat bow. "He is pleased with you."

Gilbert's heart stopped and he reached out a shaking hand to take the rose. It was simple, yet elegant. _Just like him._ Gilbert thought. So, was this all real and not an illusion like Antonio said it was? Gilbert tried to make sense of what he was feeling, but his heart was too jumbled to make sense of just at the moment.

"I'll leave you alone then."

Elizabeta gave him a kiss on the cheek which made him flush a bright pink. "Hey!"

She giggled and left him alone holding the rose. _The rose._ It was like a dead body. He wanted nothing to do with it, but at the same time it intrigued him. He sat down at the vanity station and fingered the petals. Slowly he raised it to his face and smelled the petals in total contemplation. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the man that had entered the room.

"Gilbert."

Gilbert opened his eyes and looked into the vanity mirror which reflected the intruder. "Matthew?!" He cried in astonishment.

Matthew looked surprised to be remembered at first then his face broke out into a grin. "You remembered." Gilbert launched himself from his seat and crushed his childhood friend in a hug who patted his back weakly. "Can't. Breath." He gasped.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sorry." He pulled away and held the Canadian at arms length. "How are you here? I haven't seen you in forever! Have you become famous? Do people still forget who you are?" He babbled on and on while Matthew waited patiently for him to finish.

Gilbert trailed off and looked at him expectantly. "Are you quite finished?"

"Yeah." Matthew didn't say anything. "This is the part where you respond."

Matthew looked at him incurliously before laughing. Gilbert's heart lurched. _He looks so beautiful when he smiles._ He thought, his smile growing. "I'm sorry, Gilbert. Where to begin?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well here's the short story: I have been very successful and am now the new patron of this theater."

Gilbert's mouth fell open in shock. "No way."

"Umm, you don't believe me?"

"What? No! That's not what I meant at all!"

Matthew still looked confused. "So you do believe me?"

"Hell yes!"

Matthew gave a small smile. Damn he was adorable. "You haven't changed."

"Do you remember how we used to play up in the attic?"

They both smiled at the memory. Matthew picked at his cuff. "With your father playing the violin as we ate chocolates and told dark stories of the north. Yeah I remember."

"No, but what I loved best was when the angel of music sang songs in my head." Gilbert said face glowing in the past. "My father said that when he was in heaven he would send down the angel of music." He gazed at Matthew seriously who in return backed away nervously. "My father is dead, and I have been visited by the angel of music."

Matthew nodded. "No doubt of it, you sang like an angel tonight." His face turned a slight shade of pink. "There is so much about you that I don't know. I would like to continue this conversation over, your favorite,...pancakes and perhaps make up for some lost time."

Gilbert's heart sped up and his stomach did flip flops. But then he remembered that his teacher would want to meet with him tonight. "Matthew I would love to, but the angel of music is very strict."

Matthew stared at him before giving a small chuckle. "Well I shan't keep him waiting." He opened the door. "I'll call a carriage. Two minutes, Gil bear." He started to leave.

"Matthew wait!" But the door had shut and he was already gone.

xXx

A man watched this entire exchange through the mirror in the changing room. It was a secret passageway he had barely used because the only performer who ever used it was the pig, Francis. But now his beloved Gilbert was occupying it for the time being and that meant that he was going to be using this passage way more often. So far he thought the childhood friend was an...inconvenience who would have to be disposed of. It was clear to him that the fool was in love with Gilbert, but it was just as obvious that they where prepared to go to different lengths to gain his love. In his case, he was willing to do _anything._

"Matthew wait!" Gilbert yelled after him. _That asshole!_ He couldn't help, but thinking as he dashed through the secret tunnels that could take you basically anywhere through the opera house. _He should really be more considerate. I'm gonna kill that fool._ The man smiled as he thought about his rope slipping so easily over his head and squeezing the life from his veins as his eyes stared into his begging, _begging. Just like the gypsy,_ The man thought angrily. _Don't think about him, it will only get you upset._

He was at the door.

Carefully he locked the door and took the key.

Madame Hedervary came around the corner and saw him. Their eyes met and for a second, time seemed to stop, then with a flourish of his cape the man vanished. She didn't even bat an eye as she turned around and forgot about it, keeping the promise she made to herself years before...

The man didn't waste time getting back to the secret passageway. By now, Gilbert had changed and was looking like a guilty puppy who had gotten into trouble and didn't want you to find out.

The man behind the mirror couldn't help but thinking how sexy the man looked in the outfit he had chosen to go on the dinner date. He was in a very lose white long sleeve shirt with little cuffs at the end; like a shirt a pirate would wear. And the pants he wore were skin tight and went up to his navel. _He looks l_ _ike an angel._ He thought before realizing that Gilbert was about to try the door; and that was unacceptable. He tried to sound not as annoyed as he felt, but for someone with anger management issues...it didn't go so well.

"Insolent boy this slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool this brave young suitor, basking in my triumph!"

His lover froze with a hand on the door nob and slowly he turned with his head pointed upward, eyes darting around for any sign of movement. His voice was shaky but curious and respectful. "Angel of Music I-I'm sorry. It was a moment of weakness and it won't happen again." He paused and looked around once more. "Please, could I see you? Just once, just to know I'm not crazy. Everyone thinks I'm crazy. Antonio is my best friend and he thinks I'm crazy. And now my childhood friend does to. Please, anything will do."

The man was surprised. Of course he knew what people said about Gilbert, for years all he heard were complaints of his dancing out of step, even if he always came through in the end performance. Sometimes the man wondered if he did it on purpose just to annoy the others. The thought made the man's mouth twitch upward. His voice mellowed out and you could see the relief on Gilbert's face. "Flattering, you would like to see me yes?" Gilbert nodded. "Look at your face in the mirror, I am there...inside."

Gilbert turned his face toward the mirror looking. Slowly the man who was the phantom, slid open the mirror that acted as a door, he could now come with him. He was so close to touching him for the first time he could hardly contain his excitement.

Gilbert took hesitant steps forward until, _finally_ , he took his hand and they stepped through the mirror together.


End file.
